Where the plaid comes from
by organic haircoat
Summary: People think that hunters wear plaid. But for Sam and Dean they wear plaid because of Bobby. [or the fic where Sam and Dean are Sick so Bobby has to come get them] There's family feels, cute brotherly moments and gruff but fatherly bobby. And lots of plaid


_An: I'm sorry but I'm not sorry._

Someone once teased Sam and Dean about the amount of plaid that they wore. "Is that a hunter thing or just a Winchester thing?" Dean remembered being asked that question. He couldn't even answer it either. Because the truth was it wasn't a Winchester thing and it wasn't hunter thing. Not really anyway.

When he was a kid his dad used to drop him off with bobby all the time. 'Uncle Bobby.' Bobby was Dean's favourite place, he remembered. It was warm and there were two beds instead of one so he never got kicked by Sammy in the middle of the night. Bobby never woke him up with a slap around the cheek and a gentle shake for Sam.

Bobby always had warm food – warm pie occasionally. Ellen usually brought it over when Bobby called and told her they were coming. The two scrawny kids they'd been at eight and five made them the favourite brats of most the hunters they met. They'd fallen over every pie Bobby fed them – which is probably the reason why Dean is so obsessed with it now.

But Dean's favourite thing about plaid is it's what Bobby used to dress them in. Whether they were going out for the day, back to Dad or out to dinner they wore plaid. Bobby used to joke it was the only way that he could keep track of the both of them – in the family uniform. John used to roll his eyes and tell bobby that they weren't his kids. But sometimes Dean dared to wish that they were.

The most important part about wearing plaid though was that you always got the special shirt when you were sick. Yes they had plaid shirts that were collared and hooded and warm enough to keep away the chills. But more often than not when they came to Bobby they were run down and freezing. So Bobby had this thing, a habit, something the wee Winchesters were never used to. So it was sacred being given their special soft shirt with their names specially sewn into the back.

The shirts were soft and Dean's was red1 and Sam's was orange and blue2. Bobby always had them on him it didn't matter if he drove four hours to reach them in some isolated state. They'd always be packed up in the two small duffle bags of spare clothes and food.

Dean wiped his nose and groaned as more blood was pouring out of it. "Sammy, how are you holding up?"

"Not good." He winced when his brother started retching again.

"Should I…?" He hesitated on finishing the sentence. Sam probably didn't even think much of Bobby anymore. Like, sure he'd helped them out more than once. But they weren't his problem. The Winchester brothers were no one's problem – except for bad guys of course. But there was no one who had to make sure the Winchesters were okay. That was his dad's job – even if he never did it.

"Nah I…" Dean didn't hear the rest of Sam's sentence he was too busy hacking up some nasty mucus. It splatted all over the table and Dean didn't envy the cleaning lady who was going to come in here afterwards. It was green with flecks of red in it and Dean mopped up most of it with a tissue. Sam stumbled out and slumped in the chair opposite Dean. "Whatever cursed us with this – "Dean interrupted Sammy. " – Is one hell of a bitch."

The two of them cracked open a beer and took three gulps before the both of them were coughing and hacking up mucus again. Dean's nose was all bloody and Sam's eyes were watering. The two of them looked helplessly at each other too sore to begin the clean-up process.

The two of them were uncomfortably slumped over the table when there was a loud banging at the door. "_Open up you bloody idiots. You had better open this door in three seconds or I'm breaking it down and neither of you will like the consequences." _

Dean grabbed his gun and Sam snatched a silver knife. They nodded to each other before pulling the door open.

Bobby stood in the door way and pushed his way in. "Right, pack up the both of you. I've paid the hotel fee so the both of you can fix me up for that when you're better." Dean crept closer to Bobby eyeing up and down. "Bobby? Is that you?"

"Right, you can't pack up yourselves. I'll do it for you." He left the Winchester brothers to stare at him while he grabbed their duffel bags and proceeded to push them both out of the door.

Dean started to protest immediately but Bobby slapped his hand and pushed them into his old car. He got in the driver's seat grumbling away. "I drive all the way down here for you bloody kids. To think I have to rely on information brokers to know when you're sick. Why didn't you call me?" He throws a box of tissues at Dean. "And don't think that I didn't see the beer. What are you doing drinking alcohol when you're sick? You two better not tell me it was John's old trick of three gulps of beer?"

One look in the rear view mirror told Bobby that his accusation he shook his head. "Bloody Winchesters."

Bobby drove them all the way back to his place and pulled out to plaid shirts. One was red with Dean sewn in to the collar and the second was orange and blue with _Sam _sewn on his collar. Bobby handed it to each respective boy. "Pull your shirts off." He stood there arms folded taking no nonsense as the two of them peeled their damp shirts off.

Bobby inhaled as he saw the deep scratches covering the both of them. "I wasn't warned about that…I'll deal with it later. For now pants off, clean boxers and then put your shirts on." Bobby walked out of the room to prepare their room.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then the front door. Sam pointed to it. "You know we could just…"

Dean shrugged, "my baby is out the front…still can't believe he wouldn't let me drive it."

"You are kind of sick."

"So are you."

They just stared at each other for a moment before they pulled on the clean boxers and plaid shirt and headed back up to Bobby.

Bobby saw that he'd been obeyed and shoved them both into two made up single beds. "Bed and sleep. I'll come wake you in two hours with food. Dean – get _ in the bed_. Sam, put the book down there's no curse here. I know exactly how long you two refused to change out of wet clothes and the dodgy diner you ate at. What you think I'd let you two go gallivanting about America without keeping an eye on you?" He shook his head and pulled the covers up and around Dean's shoulders. "You're both not soldiers. Next time you're sick you come to me and you don't eat a dodgy diners and you do not stay in wet clothes."

He held his stern look before giving in and hugging the both of them quickly. "Bloody kids." The he shut the door and walked out of the room. And if he looked a little happier to have them where he could help them then no one said anything.

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